


Scream Like the Lady You Are

by misfitmonarchy



Series: Tumblr Drabbles [5]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Banshee Lydia Martin, Demon AU, Demonic Possession, Gen, Lydia-centric, POV Lydia, Possessed Derek Hale, Spark Stiles Stilinski, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-06-15 08:40:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15409191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misfitmonarchy/pseuds/misfitmonarchy
Summary: Derek is possessed and it's up to Stiles and Lydia to fix it





	Scream Like the Lady You Are

**Author's Note:**

> based off the prompt by givethispromptatry on tumblr: She knew this day had been coming for a long time, it wasn’t a surprise. But still, the waves of fear that shivered through her left her feeling incredibly unsteady. 
> 
> a short one from Lydia's perspective! COMMENT below if you like!

She knew this day had been coming for a long time, it wasn’t a surprise. But still, the waves of fear that shivered through her left her feeling incredibly unsteady. 

Lydia isn’t the type to be unsteady. She doesn’t waver. She’s prim and proper and she gets things done. She was a closeted genius until she realized that brains and beauty worked better together than Jackson could ever convince her. 

Still, her legs feel like rubber as she looks back to the body sprawled on the floor of the loft and then back to the eyes of Stiles who writing something frantically on the floor in chalk. 

“Lyds, I know you’re scared but I  _need_  you to do this.  He doesn’t have much longer!” Stiles’ voice is sharp and cuts through the fear. She knew this was coming. A banshees visions never lie. 

She looks down at Derek’s pale face, eyes open and staring at nothing. They weren’t his eyes though. They were impossibly black, even the whites were gone and it reflected nothing but the demon that was possessing him now. 

“LYDIA.” Stiles calls again, nostrils flared and the demons trap finished. On a normal day she would have tore him apart and verbally murdered him where he stood for shouting at her. You don’t shout at Lydia Martin unless you were  _looking_  for social suicide. 

“Sorry.” She stuttered out, and his frustration melts for a moment. 

Derek’s body suddenly shudders awake again, and Lydia thanks the gods that the mountain ash barrier and chalk circle are holding him. They hadn’t known which one would work, but both seemed the best way to double check. Lydia nods her head to Stiles, who begins to read from an old tome. 

“ _Ad te solum confugimus ad removendum est malum spiritum a deorum exercitum et.”_ Lydia takes a deep breath. In a moment it will be over, and they’ll finally have Derek back. The werewolf would no longer be possessed. Hopefully. _"Rogamus illo adjuvante de morte ad clamorem quod licet extremum ubi est statim.._ ” When Stiles finished the incantations, ones he’d written himself and used his spark to power them; he looked to her. 

This was it. This was the moment from the vision. She looked to Derek, whose body was pounding against the barrier and snarling at Stiles like a feral omega. Then she opened her mouth and let out the loud scream that had been on the tip of her tongue. “DEREK!” She calls. 

Usually when a banshee screams a name, that person has died. As a herald of death, when she’d foreseen the scream, she had been horrified that yet another member of their pack would die. Now she understood though. She wasn’t heralding his death- Lydia was bringing Derek back from the grasps of death itself: a demonic entity. 

The werewolf in the chalk circle jerked and fell to the floor like a stone, collapsing in a heap as Stiles and Lydia watched anxiously. All of the others in the pack were either out of commission or taking care of the wounded. Derek had done a lot of damage before anyone could get to him, and though he usually liked to piss Derek off, Stiles had felt kind of bad about knocking Derek out cold with magic. 

There was still a hole in the door of where the wolf had gone through the metal when the Spark had thrown him. 

The power of her scream broke the windows along the back wall. She would have felt a bit guilty if she had the energy to. But with using her power came an exhaustion that seeped into her bones like tea into hot water. 

“Did it work?” She asks, wiping sweat from her upper lip and looking back up to see Stiles inside the circle now, cradling Derek’s head in his lap. 

“I think so.” He answers, not looking away as he presses some hair out of Derek’s face. She acts as if she doesn’t see him kiss Derek’s forehead. She knows Stiles will tell her when he’s ready. Which probably won’t be until Derek himself is told about the huge crush Stiles has been harboring for a long time now. 

She sighs and leans back against the couch behind her. She’s too tired to move, but too worried the spell didn’t work and Stiles will be attacked by the demon to fall asleep just yet. Well, that and Lydia Martin does  _not_  sleep on the floor. At least not without alcohol. 

“Stiles…?” Derek croaks weakly and the man holding the werewolf smiles down at him. 

“Right here, big guy.”

**Author's Note:**

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